Aside from having the ability to vote incorrectly, another inherent issue with democracy is that our votes are anonymous. While this may stop things like blackmail, intimidation and fascism, it doesn’t allow us to quietly judge people based on their values. Who or what a person votes for says a lot about that person and may be a valid reason for you to not get married or to turn down vague invites to concerts with him.

Likewise, sometimes who or what a person votes for can speak volumes about his or her intelligence, sense of humour, taste, and regard for mankind. Take, for example, the current NOW Magazine “Best Of” poll that is open to anyone capable of using a web browser. Let’s just say, for instance, someone were voting in the Best Sketch Troupe category, from which he or she has the ability to nominate any troupe in the entire city. Say, for instance, this person decided to nominate Two Weird Ladies. What would this say about the voter?

First off, this wonderful person is voting for two ladies. This voter seems to have a high regard for women, seeing them as valuable members of the comedy community. This kindly person is also very socially progressive, making the statement that, yes, two women can form a meaningful, long-lasting partnership and that that is something that deserves more recognition in our society. In this case, the voter has a high regard for others.

Secondly, this hypothetical voter is voting for a sketch duo who produced a critically acclaimed Fringe show that was mentioned as a “best of” production by a couple of the most respected comedy critics in the city. By voting for a duo respected by experts, this voter is showing off his or her great taste in comedy.

Thirdly, based on the fact that Two Weird Ladies tend to write sketches inspired by real life scenarios and don’t usually resort to x-rated shock humour, the voter is clearly empathetic, classy and (let’s assume) highly attractive.

From this example we can clearly see that the type of person who would nominate Two Weird Ladies for Best Sketch Troupe as part of NOW Magazine’s Best Of Toronto Reader’s Poll is basically a supreme being who is perfect in every way. If voting were not anonymous we could recognize such people on the street and throw rose petals at them and ask them to kiss our babies for luck. The way things are now, we can’t let anyone on the street kiss our babies as we have no way of knowing who voted for Pierre Trudeau or who voted for Ruben Studdard. Or who has Hepatitis B.

Every vote really does count, and this is the problem. If we only allowed people who were going to vote properly (i.e. the type who had it in their hearts to vote for Two Weird Ladies) to vote, perhaps kittens would be confined to the safety of our homes, and not in the place of an awesome robot on the Monopoly board or the arms of an awkward robot in parliament.

If you are a caring, intelligent, empathetic, classy, attractive web-browser-user with great comedic taste and regard for the human race, please click here and nominate Two Weird Ladies for Best Sketch Troupe. Thank you!

Now, attending a comedy festival may seem like a simple task that any fool with money for a ticket can accomplish. While this is true, you may be surprised to learn that there is a particular etiquette that should be adhered to when attending Toronto Sketchfest. While failure to follow these polite civilities will not get you ejected from the theatre by a handsy Associate Producer, it will cause you to be the ridicule of anyone who notices. Which will probably be no one. People are there to watch the troupes – not to pay attention to what you’re up to six seats away. God, you’re self-centred.

Anyway, just do this stuff.

Etiquette Rule No. 1
Laugh really loudly at everything Two Weird Ladies do or say
Whether we are on stage or at the bar, we need everyone around us to think we’re funny. That’s why we do this shit. So after every line of dialogue, let out your loudest, most guttural laugh so that the largest possible number of surrounding humans can hear you. If they happen to glance over, you may consider making eye contact with them, pointing at us, and shaking your head in pleased disbelief at how hilarious we constantly manage to be.

Etiquette Rule No. 2
Have a drink with Two Weird Ladies after the show
Every high school graduate knows you aren’t cool unless you drink, or at very least fill a rocks glass with ginger ale and stumble about a little. Likewise, every cat owner on Lavalife knows there is nothing sadder than drinking alone. In order for us to be the most admired gals at the festival, we need to be immersed in a hip crowd of intoxicated scenesters. While using your tipsy self to accessorize us with popularity, please remember that the only thing more awesome than a guy with a beer in his hand is a guy with a beer in one hand and money in the other. So feel free to flaunt your wealth by buying us drinks, or at very least wine glasses filled with Mountain Dew.

Etiquette Rule No. 3
Vote for Two Weird Ladies
Cheat if you must. We want to win the Audience Choice Award to prove once and for all that we are both sketch comedy masters and endearing darlings who win strangers’ hearts. After the show, you will be asked to vote for the troupe(s) you liked best. Please vote multiple times for us. If you can steal ballots from aloof audience members who are weaker than you during the show please go for it. If you choose to do some sleuth work into who is counting the ballots at the end of the festival and manage to drug them, transplant their face onto yours, assume their identity and fix the vote please be our guest.

Etiquette Rule No. 4.
Talk loudly about how great Two Weird Ladies are
Whether you are at the bar, on the subway, in an important business meeting or passing time at the library while they spray your apartment for bedbugs, be sure to always be talking loudly about how great we are as both comedians and people. If you are alone, a great way to do this is to hold your Blackberry to your ear and pretend you are talking to your lover about things you love. Some examples of things you might choose to say are:
- “Two Weird Ladies are the funniest comedy act I’ve ever seen! And I’m a time traveller and I specifically went back in time and saw all the comedy shows ever performed since the beginning of time and, yes, they are the best.”
- “Tina Fey used to be my comedy idol, but then I saw Laura Salvas of Two Weird Ladies perform and now I just think Tina Fey is a talentless piece of human garbage with an okay face who is a disgrace to comedy and women worldwide.”
- “Did you hear about the terrible civil war in Romania? No? Oh, well, that’s because Mandy Sellers of Two Weird Ladies went to Romania and singlehandedly stopped the war before it even started and now there is a life-size statue of her in Bucharest because she is a national symbol of peace.”
- “We have to break up. I can’t love you like I love Two Weird Ladies.”
And so on, as you see fit.

Etiquette Rule No. 5
Please turn off your cell phone
A phone ringing during the show is distracting to the performers on stage and to the audience.

And there you have it. You may wish to print off a copy of these rules to bring with you to a Toronto Sketchfest show. You can use them as a self-reminder or pass them to a stranger you notice rudely violating this code. Unfortunately, despite our many emails, these etiquette reminders have not yet been posted on the official Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival website and we have been asked to strongly press the fact that these rules are not endorsed or sanctioned by Toronto Sketchfest or anyone in its employ.

If you are choosing shows to see at the festival, we’re playing Thursday March 7th and Thursday March 14th at 8pm at the Lower Ossington Theatre. We’re doing two totally different sets, so seeing us twice means two different shows. We’re doing some favourites and some brand new stuff, plus we’re performing alongside two other great troupes each night (The Short Form Richards and The Hooligans on the 7th; Side Effects and Deadpan Powerpoint on the 14th). Tickets are $15 and can be bought here. You can also get a festival pass that allows you into a number of shows for a lower rate.

We hope to see you at the festival and to overhear you saying gratuitously flattering things about us in the presence of strangers.

1. Charleston, SC

We were lucky enough to go to Charleston in January to perform at the 10th annual Charleston Comedy Festival.  Not only did we get to perform two insanely fun shows, but we also got the benefit of:

Warm Weather - It was like spring had arrived and was turning into summer.  The Thursday of the festival it was 23 degrees Celsius outside!

$1 Beers - Mandy enjoyed this very much, as all festival performers were able to purchase beers at Theatre 99 (Charleston’s home for improv comedy) for the low low price of a buck!

Festival Showcase – We were asked by the festival organizers to perform a sketch at the Festival All-Star Showcase, which closed out the fest.  That was exciting in itself, but afterwards we found out that Michael Ian Black saw our sketch and laughed!

And finally, THIS!

We got to Charleston and what should we see, but the cover of the Charleston City Paper featuring our wonderful photo from Fringe, taken by Kevin Thom!

2.  Writing New Material

With the craziness of 2012 behind us, we decided it was time to buckle down and stop using our Broadway Musical sketch every time we got asked to do a show.  So over the past month or so we have written a bunch of new material that we’ve started to test out!  Characters may include eccentric innkeepers, fired businessmen, and Laura being crazy.  And you can check out most of this new material at…

3.  The Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival

That’s right!  Two Weird Ladies will be performing two shows at this year’s Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival.  Check out more information here, and if you can’t wait that long to see us, come and check out The SiriusXM Sketch-Off, this Saturday at Comedy Bar!  More details can be found here, or by checking out the Facebook event.

So, in the spirit of list-loving and year-end roundups, we bring you a list of Two Weird Ladies’ 10 Weirdest Moments of 2012. (Some of these are more experiences than moments, but the word “moments” sounded better, OKAY?)

10. The many things that went wrong on the Fringe stage
If you saw our show, you probably thought we executed every dance move and delivered every joke with such precision and professionalism that you were tempted to file a Freedom of Information request with the government to see if we were prototypes for un-starve-able comedian robots. But there were many times that, beneath the on-stage shtick, our real selves were mentally managing heart palpitations. One afternoon poor old Manders leapt onto stage only to realize she had forgotten her ukulele pick and had to awkwardly strum our opening number with her fingers. One night my nose started bleeding halfway through the set and I had to plough through, singing, dancing, reciting monologues and even accosting members of the audience all while hoping there was not nasal blood streaming down my face. But these travesties, matched with runaway sound cues, flubbed lines and a wandering spotlight, could not stop us from being, like, the greatest and prettiest and funniest people ever.

9. Doing sketch comedy with microphones on the street in rush hour
When we booked the 6pm performance slot at the local market we didn’t imagine ourselves standing on a cement stoop at Bathurst and Dundas, performing sketch with handheld microphones so we could be heard over the squealing streetcars filled with gawking commuters. As awkward as it was to hear our songs about Nana being an idiot for believing in the afterlife echoing through the busy intersection, we ended up meeting some great Fringe performers who kindly came and saw our show.

8. Our talk show-style interviews
After being part of Larry Smith’s Talk Show – which involved us delivering rambling answers as the vaudevillian comic with a migraine drew caricatures of us in the tiny Hamilton bar that served $2 pints of “Fringe Party Beer” – we didn’t think things could get any weirder. But then we booked a slot on Mullet’s Night Show. Mullet is a zombie clown. I am terrified of clowns. I booked this show, partly because it’s a great show, partly because I didn’t want to hold Mandy back, partly because I thought the zombie factor would make the clown less scary because it meant the clown had, at one point, died and partly because I am an idiot. It is hard to endear yourself to a room full of zombie clown fans when you can’t make eye contact with the host and almost cry onstage.

7. Making some money by doing sketch comedy
Anyone who does sketch knows this does not happen. It’s not like we made enough to quit our jobs and start shopping at Whole Foods, but we were able to pay off our expenses, give bonuses to the people who helped us and cover our bar tabs. Fringe claims all proceeds go back to the performers but really they go straight to the Fringe bar.

6. Pretending to jerk off in front of our bosses
We both work fancy office jobs at which we sign off corporate emails with phrases like “Best regards” and have to go to meetings and wear pants made of tweed. Our kind, supportive directors and VPs took time out of their busy family lives to come see a glimpse of this secret comedy thing we do. What they got was us performing jerk-off motions, dropping the c-word, Mandy pretending to be mentally challenged and a scene about, well, us wanting to quit our office jobs. It was awkward. But then we both got promotions.

5. Eating a cold turkey drumstick in front of a live audience
Behind every Weird Lady is a weird director who decides nothing would be more hilarious than making someone with aversions to cold poultry and messy hands grab a chunk of meat and chew on it for a minute and a half in front of 108 people. Instead of flowers, Professional Director Kirsten Gallagher brought an insulated lunch bag containing a $9 smoked turkey drumstick to our final Fringe performance in Toronto. Mandy ate it begrudgingly. She will probably find it hilarious one day, assuming she gets dementia.

4. Being confronted by an animal rights activist
During the aforementioned Larry Smith Talk Show, when asked about our director we casually mentioned that she was currently in Vietnam and had posted a photo from her travels of some horse sushi. After returning to our table of $2 Fringe Party Beer, we were approached by a lady kind enough to tell us we had better watch what we say because people should NOT eat horses and, by the way, did we have any idea of the inhumane conditions horses used to face before being slaughtered when horse meat was available in North America? She began a gory description of horse butchery when Stage Manager Jesse asked her to please stop. I’m glad she did. She was making me hungry.

3. Being “heckled” to pillow fight in a scene with no pillows
Doing 14 consecutive Fringe shows for theatre nerds of all ages kind of helped us forget that a Friday at 11pm all-male improv show at a bar might attract a younger, drink-y-er, yell-y-er crowd. That said, we never expected that our scene about two girls getting ready for a blind date would illicit cries of “MAKE OUT!” or “HAVE A PILLOW FIGHT!” We seriously considered abandoning our script for a pillow fight but unfortunately no pillows were made available to us by the venue. And we always save our make out sessions for after our shows in a private bathroom stall.

2. That day when we did not see or talk to each other
Saturday, August 18th. I was camping and did not have cell phone reception. I drew Mandy’s face on a beach ball and cooked her a strip loin steak. The next day the steak was gone. I am not sure whether a) the medium-rare meat enticed a bear to the campsite or b) beach ball Mandy came to life, ate the steak then smashed a Coleman cooler open on a rock and also ate all the raw sausages and bacon then ripped open the garbage and threw it all over the ground. I guess we will never know.

1. Having strangers say nice things about us
While we are bored to death with strangers commenting on how pretty and smart and nice we are, Fringe was our first real experience with strangers commenting on us being funny. Well, strangers, it’s about time! There was nothing more wonderful than seeing reviewers or bloggers use adjectives to describe us such as: irreverent, entertaining, explosive, popular, intelligent, fresh, fascinating, hilarious, really fucking hilarious, energetic, genius, funny, smart, beautiful, bizarre, hysterical, clever, creative, damn good, likeable, impeccable, admirable, infectious, unrelenting, fantastic, self-aware, fun, refreshing, charming, magical, 20-somethings, fast-paced, fantastic, professional, young, authentic, laugh-out-loud, top-drawer, and quality. Add to this being included in lists such as Torontoist’s Top 10 things at Fringe and NOW Magazine’s Outstanding Fringe Productions and Top 10 Comedy Shows of 2012 and you’ve got some major ego problems. Never wanting to let things go to our heads, Mandy and I are currently writing a series of highly racist sketches that take place in the bathroom, all of which are eight minutes long and end with one of us realizing “it was all a dream.”

Next year we will release a list of the ten best stages we have been booed off of. Until then, thank you, everyone, for giving us such an incredible 2012!

Not that I could sing or dance or act well enough to ever be cast in a Mirvish production of, well, anything, but up until the embarrassingly half-assed adaptation of Alice in Wonderland my school barfed onto a stage that year I had at least found theatre fun and exciting. But being ordered to drive my 1984 Chevette in full rabbit regalia, accompanied by a six-foot-tall caterpillar, the King and Queen of hearts and a Dormouse who looked like she was wearing blackface, to the local mall to spend an hour loitering by the food court handing out jaggedly cut flyers didn’t exactly sell the dream. It instead gave me a glimpse into what many working actors end up doing – wearing a Best Buy mascot uniform handing out coupons at Blue Jays games in exchange for $30 and a slice of pizza.

So now, instead of being an understudy for Scarborough Theatre’s production of Brigadoon, I have a job that allows me the luxury of sitting at a desk all day being as un-creative as possible. This is great because it pays me more than $30 and when people get pregnant we get lots of free pizza. It also means, however, that without creating my own opportunities on the outside I would slowly lose my mind and end up renovating my bedroom into a theatre for my eight Persian cats so I could dress them in Winnie the Pooh costumes and have them reenact the Disney movie over and over until they got it right.

This need to create my own opportunities means I never rest, rarely sleep and will likely die of old age before I turn 50. But the long nights of taking classes, writing sketches, doing shows and being drunk networking are just so gosh darn fun. Not having the training or the skills to play Sally Bowles in Cabaret – despite my striking resemblance to Liza Minnelli – means I get to write my own lines, make my own character choices and work with who I want (MANDY!). It also means the laughs I get are mine – ALL MINE! (Except for the ones that are Mandy’s.)

If I had never been forced to play the White Rabbit in that travesty of a musical (which included a dance choreographed to a remix of TLC’s “No Scrubs,” a set made of painted trees with compact discs glued to the branches, and four girls in school football uniforms dancing to “All in the Golden Afternoon”) maybe I would still have had hopes and dreams when university application time came around. Maybe I would have gone into a musical theatre program, would have never been quite good enough and ended up dressed as the Snuggle Bear handing out buttons to desperate children at The Ex. Instead I gave up on my goals early, which has proved to be one of the best choices I ever made. Thank you, (name of director withheld), for your exceptional lack of inspiration.

Seriously, though – that play was a piece of shit.

One thing we have learned during the Toronto and Hamilton Fringe Festivals is that, when producing a sketch comedy revue, it is not only important to be funny but also to be stunningly beautiful. Oh, and it doesn’t hurt if you have a great photographer like Kevin Thom do your promo shots. Yes, this is us on the cover of Hamilton’s weekly VIEW Magazine. This cover page will hang proudly on our parents’ walls and will undoubtedly be used by strangers as tinder in their Algonquin Park fire pits or to wrap their shot glasses as they hastily pack after a terrible breakup. As this is only a few degrees away from us being on the cover of The Rolling Stone, we are going to cherish this moment, which may very well be the height of our comedy career (which is actually something we do in addition to our actual careers. You know – the ones that pay us more than $60 annually).

Here’s what VIEW had to say about Two Weird Ladies Bomb The Fringe in Hamilton:
“This high energy comedy duo belong on a stage. Both girls were afraid of nothing, never broke from their performance, and kept surprising the audience with new formats for their writing. Laura Salvas and Mandy Sellers’ show is good old-fashioned sketch comedy, with some clever recurring themes and a finishing concept that brought the show together. They vary the experience through song, voice, characterization and movement – all exceptionally well done. Their inexhaustible energy combined with how truly funny their writing is made for a fantastic time. They have intelligent thoughts beneath their comedy and they completely fill the stage with presence and talent. Outstanding!” – Katie Penrose

Thank you, Katie Penrose! You have made us feel funny, pretty and smart. Which is really the main reason we do this thing – our constant need for validation. We aren’t just in it for the $60 per annum.

Mandy and I put a hell of a lot of work into Two Weird Ladies Bomb The Fringe. During the process, we often scrunched up our ever-furrowed brows, tensed our overly stressed shoulders and asked our crew, in voices whinier and pitchy-er than ever, “Guuuuyyyyysss – is our show even funny?” Despite two out of three of them answering “yes,” we doubted ourselves to the very end. When we started our writing process, we came to realize that our shared personal mantra was: “Mediocrity is failure, success is mediocrity and perfection is merely success.” A messed-up form of logic, perhaps, not unlike the new small-less Tim Hortons cup sizes, but to control freak perfectionists like ourselves we knew it would take a lot to make us happy with our final product.

We’re still too self-doubt-y to totally get it, but over the last couple of weeks so many wonderful friends and strangers have been approaching us with earnest looks and telling us how much they enjoyed our show. And having done many shows in our lives, we know the difference between a genuine compliment and an awkward “the costumes were unique. I have to go – bye!” Realizing the compliments we were getting – many from the press – were genuine usually left us uncomfortably twitching, a common side effect of Piece of Garbage Disorder, from which we both suffer. But we’re quite certain part of the discomfort we felt was just the sensation of our hearts (not our egos) growing three sizes a la Grinch. If we could hold hands with all of you and sing kindly songs around a tree to demonstrate our happiness, we would. Well, Mandy would. I fear the human touch.

We feel so honoured that so many people in Toronto spent their time and money supporting our show and that they made the effort to pass on kind words in person and online. We sort of do this comedy thing to avoid ever having to be sincere, but now seems like a good time to try that “real human emotion” thing most normal people do. So thank you. Thank you all SO MUCH for making two neurotic, paranoid ladies feel like perhaps we maybe did a sort of okay job at something.

I’m publishing this now while I’m feeling good. There’s still times for people to boo us off the stage in Hamilton.

Laura Salvas (left) and Mandy Sellers. Photo by Kevin Thom Photography. Edited by Nigel Downer.

We’re very happy to say that yesterday was the world universe black hole debut of Two Weird Ladies Bomb The Fringe!  And we’re still alive to tell the tale!

It all started on a balmy July afternoon at 1:15 pm.  By 2:09 pm, it was over, like a blur or some sort of superhero who blurs… like The Blur.  I think.

That said, we received a delightful review from our friends at Mooney on Theatre, which you can read in its entirety here, or just read the selected quotes we pulled out to make us look really good:

“… a show that is irreverent, hilarious, unafraid to pull punches…and drop bombs.”

“Laura and Mandy perform in true form, high energy, well thought-out segments of comedic gold, perfectly executed like a synchronized swim team.”

“Two Weird Ladies Bomb the Fringe is enough to keep you on your toes while bursting at the seams from laughter.”

Thank you to Samantha Wu for the amazing review and remember we have SIX shows left!

Saturday July 7th – 9:15pm
Monday July 9th – 10:45pm
Tuesday July 10th – 4:45pm
Thursday July 12th – 9:30pm
Friday July 13th – 5:15pm
Saturday July 14th – 1:45pm

We hope to see you there!

* Two Weird Ladies are far from professional.  We are hardly even a sketch duo.

Check out the lists below and ponder what you’d like to bid on!

Names and Places we’re auctioning off…
The girl whose underwear were put in the toilet
The guy who got banged in the bathroom at prom
A whore-faced-bride (we call your mom a whore, too!)
A lame groom
A Grade 12 science nerd
The guy who had a rat tail in Grade 3
The person who refused to be Laura’s sketch partner
The cool girl who throws a kegger
The cool guy with an in-ground pool
A guy who has loud sex on weeknights
The high school math teacher
A hideous guy who doesn’t want to date us (x2)
A VIP-only club
The local high school

Also up for bid…
THREE chances to be thanked in our program! If bids get high enough, we’ll thank you for something specific! (ie, Douglas McSanderson for bailing us out of prison.)

PLUS!
A CAMEO at one of our Fringe performances!

All bids start at $2 and the highest bidder gets creative control. You can use your own name or the name of someone you know (as long as they’d think it’s fun and you’re not being mean about it…). Let’s be honest, a vast majority of us will never achieve any fame. This could be the one chance you get for people to feel delight at the sound of your name. Ever.

We’re raising money for Two Weird Ladies Bomb The Fringe as we want to ensure we can afford to pay all the amazing people who are lending us their talents. Also, we thought it would be fun to include people from the community in our sketches.

And don’t forget we’ve got sketch comedy from British Teeth, improv from 2-Man No-Show, standup from Joel Buxton, hip hop from Wordburglar and character monologuing from Danz Altvater. And buttons for sale. BUTTONS!

9pm, $5, 945 Bloor Street West. See you there for your chance to sell yourself out for Fringe by helping us sell ourselves out for cash!

Cover up stains on your clothing while supporting Two Weird Ladies!